


Whiteout

by chezamanda



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Couch Sex, Cunnilingus, Drinking, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Pre-Avengers Movie, Snowed In, Sweaters, Switzerland, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 10:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chezamanda/pseuds/chezamanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in a Swiss chalet during a blizzard, Clint and Natasha find a way to pass the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whiteout

**Author's Note:**

> Not mine, just playing in the sandbox.
> 
> Thanks to the Hive Mind for the running commentary and hand-holding. In case you want a full visual of the chalet where I based this fic, [click here.](http://www.luxuryaccommodationsblog.com/post/12985747562/hidden-dragon-veysonnaz-switzerland-an)

Natasha looked out at the near-impenetrable whiteness of the blizzard with a quiet sigh of resignation. This wasn’t one of the worst places they could be stuck during a snowstorm, but she was tired and would rather be on her way back home right now. A cagey feeling crept up her spine - she needed to know there was a way out before she could rest easy. Their evac had been canceled due to the inclimate weather and they had no other option than to sit tight until the storm passed. She turned away from the window, deciding to pour herself a glass of wine from one of the bottles kept in the impressive cellar of the chalet. 

By the time she returned from the lower level of the house, Clint had returned from his shower in a worn pair of jeans and a black sweater that made Natasha forget all about her claustrophobia. The material clung to his upper body, accentuating the curve of each and every muscle, particularly his biceps. She leaned against the granite countertop without bothering to conceal the heated look on her face as she took it all in. Noticing the expression on her face - and how could he not? - Clint paused on his way out to the living room and gave her a lopsided grin.

“See something you like, Romanoff?” he asked, walking up to her.

“Mhmm,” she hummed and ran her hand appreciatively over the soft, knit fabric that covered his upper body. “I don’t think I’ve seen this before.”

“It’s new.”

She smirked at him. “I like it.”

Natasha might have elaborated if it weren’t for Clint pressing his mouth to hers, trapping her between his body and the counter. Her hands fisted in the black material as she sighed into the kiss. No matter how many times she had been kissed in her life, Clint could always turn her into a swooning, near useless excuse for a woman with just one touch of his lips against her own. She wanted to hate him for it, she really did, but she liked it just too damn much.

“It’s kinda cold out,” she said, “maybe we should go get warmed up by the fireplace.”

“I think that’s a very good idea.”

The couch in front of the fireplace was absolute heaven with its overstuffed, velvety material that practically swallowed them up when they sat down. Clint allowed Natasha enough time to finish her glass before he drew her into his lap. He pressed his mouth to the column of her throat and her pulse quickened. Purring, she brought his hands up to cup her breasts through the thin material of her tank top. He tested their weight before tugging the material down until she was partially exposed and sucked one nipple between his lips. 

“Oh god,” she moaned, her head dropping back as she arched into the warmth of his mouth.

A day’s worth of stubble rasped at her sensitive skin, making her little cries of pleasure even more strained. He worked both nipples with his lips and tongue until they were hard little peaks. She gave a small yelp when she felt the sharp edge of his teeth against them, just this side of painful. Fisting her hands in his hair, Natasha dragged his mouth back to hers in a bruising kiss as she rocked in his lap. Clint was hard against her and pressed against her through the twin layers of thick material. 

Sounding frustrated and impatient, Clint broke the kiss to roughly take off Natasha’s top. His callused hands were rough against her skin; each caress sent little shivers down her spine. Not about to be the only one without a shirt on, Natasha eased the black pullover off of him and pressed their naked skin together. From the moment they had started sleeping together, Natasha became addicted to the way Clint’s body felt beneath her own. Her hands couldn’t stop touching his skin, mapping out the plains and valleys of him and committing them to memory. Even though she had learned every inch of him, she was always eager to know more.

Without notice, Clint swiftly changed their positions and slid down to the hardwood floor in front of her. A little huff of air left her lungs as she quickly regained her bearings and realized what he was up to. His fingers undid her jeans, tugging them down her legs along with her panties and discarded them on the floor beside him. Natasha watched his every move closely - he was sizing her up, plotting his next move, and she had a pretty good idea what that was. Just to rile him, Natasha drew her legs together, biting back a playful grin at his look of annoyance.

“Fucking tease,” he growled, forcing her legs apart and leaning in until he was barely an inch from her face.

Natasha’s breath hitched; she loved how forceful he was, how she could trust him in such an intimate manner, and how he never backed away from her. Never breaking eye contact, Clint moved down until she could feel his breath ghosting cool over her dampness. She shifted beneath his hold, desperate for him to make contact but he wouldn’t budge. He looked up at her from between her thighs, a devious, challenging look glimmering in his eyes that made her pulse quicken.

The moment his tongue touched her skin, Natasha’s body went stiff as though she had received a shock. She threw her head back against the cushion and gasped loudly. Clint wasted no time in driving her out of her mind. His tongue moved around her sex teasingly, getting so very close to where she wanted it to be before it moved away and then dipped into her cunt. The tip of his tongue traced the mouth of her pussy, making her sob with frustration and pleasure. It was good, but she needed that talented mouth on her clit. She brought her hands down to tangle in his hair and urged him upward. Just as stubborn as he was outside of the bedroom, Clint refused to indulge her wish and continued fucking his tongue into her until she was writhing beneath him.

“Something you wanted?” Clint asked, raising his mouth from her cunt.

Bastard.

“You know what I fucking want,” Natasha said between clenched teeth.

“I need to hear you say it first.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and tightened her grip on his spiky hair. “I want your mouth on my clit. Now.”

He grinned. “Don’t like it when someone teases, do you?”

“Brat,” she growled, swatting him lightly on the cheek.

Giving her one last defiant look, Clint dropped his head back down and finally touched his tongue to her swollen clit. She rode his mouth, unapologetically taking her pleasure from him. He slipped two fingers into her cunt and began fucking her in counterpoint to the movements of his tongue. Despite his teasing, obstinate behavior, Clint ate her out enthusiastically and noisily as he worked her with his fingers. His deep hums of enjoyment vibrated only put her more on edge as they rumbled through her body. Through her heavily lidded eyes, Natasha could see his other hand slip down below his waist.

“Oh god,” she moaned.

Knowing that he was getting off on eating her out sent her right over the edge, screaming as she went. She held him tight against her while she rode out each strong wave. Even though she would be satisfied with that orgasm alone, Natasha wanted his cock inside of her for the next one. With a soft grunt she released her grip on him, allowing him to be face to face with her once again. Her slick was shining on his lips and chin, practically all over his face from what she could tell in the firelight. The sight of it made her breath stutter and she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck to pull him in for a rough kiss, possessed by the need to taste herself on his mouth. She sucked on his tongue greedily and grinned at the helpless sound he made. No longer touching himself, Clint’s hands moved over her skin and slipped down under her ass to bring her body flush against his own.

“You wanna fuck me, Clint?” she asked breathlessly. 

“Fuck yes,” he groaned.

“Then put your fucking cock in me already.”

Clint laughed. “Christ, you’re pushy.”

“You love it,” she said with a grin.

Clint slid into her pussy in one easy glide that made her head drop back against the cushion. She loved the way his cock filled her and the feeling of that initial stretch that she had yet to get used to. Sighing contentedly, Natasha wrapped her legs around Clint’s hips and encouraged him to take her. He pumped in and out of her at a measured pace, but only for a few short moments before his desire overtook him. Each thrust rattled her, making her groan and grip the back of the couch to steady herself. She shuddered and urged him on with her sounds.

Taking a second to adjust, Clint hiked her leg up over his shoulder as he knelt with both knees on the couch. She was completely open to him like this, eager to receive him again, and looked up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth. He stared at her as if studying her face before leaning down to kiss her. In the same instance, Clint pushed himself inside of her again, deeper than before, and she felt his breath stutter against her lips as he bottomed out. He placed one hand on the back of the couch and drove himself into her cunt with the same vigorous pace as earlier.

“Love how you feel inside me,” Natasha panted, bringing her hands up to frame Clint’s face.

Clint claimed her mouth once more and she curled her fingers in his hair, kissing back hungrily. His tongue was soft against her own, still tasting faintly of her arousal and she moaned against his lips. It was all too much and she could feel another orgasm fast approaching from the wonderful friction between them. A quiet sigh escaped her when his hand came up to cup her face. She leaned into the warmth of his hand and gave into that intense, building pressure.

This must have triggered his own climax because Natasha felt and heard that same change in Clint almost a half second later. He buried himself inside of her, his cock pulsing and filling her with wet heat. She held him close with both arms around his body, their ragged breaths almost louder than the snowstorm outside.

Clint was the one to move them once the afterglow had ebbed, resituating them on the overstuffed couch with his body behind her own. Not minding in the least that she was the “little spoon,” Natasha sighed happily and pulled the throw blanket from the arm of the couch over them to retain their body heat. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and then to the spot below her ear. She felt him smile against her skin and closed her eyes, enjoying the secure warmth of his arms.


End file.
